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No, I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay here in my dream …
But the apartment fades as Bailey appears in front of me.
“Why did you leave us?” She pouts, and there is a bruise on her cheek.
“What happened to your face?” I ask worriedly.
“Dad hit me,” she says with tears falling down her cheeks. “He smacked me across the face because I told him off.”
“That happened to me once.” My cheek begins to burn. “Recently actually.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” My mom suddenly appears in the dream.
“Mommy.” I start to sob as I throw my arms around her.
“Shh… It’s going to be okay.” She hugs me tightly.
“No, it’s not,” I sob. “Everything’s broken without you here.”
She hugs me tighter. “I know.”
“Will you… Will you please come back?” I move back to look at her, but she starts to fade away. “Mom!” But she vanishes.
Then suddenly I’m standing near the street with a river flowing on the other side, car engines filling the air. I hear tires skidding followed by a loud splash.
“No!” My dad shouts from beside me.
Then he rushes forward toward the river, leaving me behind in a mob of bystanders. I start to run after him, but my stomach clenches.
Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.
“Hadley!”
My eyes pop open, and I bolt upright, my cheek throbbing in pain, my skin drenched in sweat. It takes a couple of panicked breaths to get my bearings, to realize I’m not at the scene of my mom’s accident. That I’m sitting up in my sleeping bag that’s spread across the floor of my new home, sunlight trickling in through the grimy windows. On one side of me is Payton’s sleeping bag, and on the other is Londyn’s. Bailey is kneeling beside my feet, already dressed in a pair of black jeans and a matching shirt, her hair pulled into a ponytail, and worry written on her face.
“What time is it?” I ask, rubbing my sleepy eyes and trying to rub away the lingering images of the accident.
“Almost ten o’clock.” She continues to observe me with worry.
My hands fall to my lap. “Why didn’t my alarm go off?”
She wavers. “It did, but we turned it off.”
“Why?”
“Well, mostly because we were trying to figure out what to do.”
I comb my fingers through my tangled hair. “With Dad?”
“No.” Her gaze zeroes in on my cheek. “Your cheek looks really gnarly.”
“Don’t change the subject.” I throw the sleeping bag off me and rise to my feet. “What happened? And where’s Payton and Londyn?”
Bailey chews on her bottom lip. “Outside … looking at the damage.”
Worry instantly rushes through me. “The damage to what?”
When she doesn’t answer, I immediately dash out of the room. I don’t bother changing out of my plaid pajama shorts and tank top as I dash out the door and into the warm August air of Honeyton.
We arrived late enough last night that I didn’t get a good look at the neighborhood. Part of me was hoping that perhaps it’d look better in the daylight. If anything, it looks worse. The entire street is covered with dilapidated two-story houses, yellowing front yards, and the occasional junkyard. But we’ve lived in places equally as bad before.
“Great pick, Dad,” I mutter as I jog toward my car where Londyn and Payton are huddled together. “What’re you guys doing?”
They jump away from each other, Londyn pressing her hand against her chest and Payton gasping.
“Holy crap, Hadley, are you part ninja or something?” Payton jokes nervously as she works to catch her breath.
I stop in front of them, my gaze dancing back and forth between them. “Why are you guys acting so twitchy? Bailey said something about something being damaged.”
Bailey moves up beside me, and the three of them exchange worried looks. It’s unusual for me to be the outsider, but I totally feel like one right now.
I put my hands on my hips. “All right, whatever you did, fess up.”
“We didn’t do anything.” Bailey rubs her hand across her forehead. “It was just like that when we came out here.”
“What was like what?” I track her gaze to my car, and my worry skyrockets. “What happened to my car?”
Londyn frowns, while Payton looks away, and Bailey chews on her fingernail.
Giving up, I circle the car to see if I can find out for myself …
“What the fuck?” My lips part in shock as I spot one, two, three, four … “How the hell are all my tires flat?”
“It gets worse,” Payton mumbles, scuffing the tip of her shoe against the dirt.
I look to Londyn for help.
Sighing, she rounds to the trunk and pops it open. “There’re some, um, car pieces from the engine, I think, in here. I’m not sure which ones since I don’t know shit about cars.”
Anger simmers under my skin as I march to the back of the car to look inside the trunk. Sure enough, pieces of the carburetor, along with the battery are scattered around inside.
Fuming, I stride around to the front of the car and pop the hood. I’m not even sure why I bother looking. The parts are for sure mine. Just as I’m pretty sure I know who did this.
“Car trouble?” The sound of Blondie baby douchebag’s mocking tone makes my lips curl.
I reel around, preparing to have a throw down with him, but instantly falter.
Standing on the other side of the fence beside blondie are two guys, one who looks a little bit younger with chin-length black hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and the other looks slightly older with dark hair, a few facial piercings, and heavily inked arms. All of them share similar facial features, so I’m guessing they’re brothers.
They’re also dressed head to toe in black with a different assortment of studded bracelets, belts, and chains decorating their outfits, as if they’re auditioning for a Goth boy band. A very pretty Goth boy band.
Why is it the douchey ones are always pretty?
A smirk starts to rise on blondie baby douchebag’s face, and I realize I’m staring at them.
Pulling my head out of my ass, I glare at him. “Did you fucking do this to my car?”
“Someone did something to your car?” He feigns dumb, yet keeps on smirking. “Wow, that really sucks.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t do it. I know you did.”
He stares me down hard. “If you’re so sure, then prove it.”
I want to pick up a rock and thro
w it at his stupid pretty face, but the last thing my family needs right now is assault charges pressed against me.
Blondie rests his arms on top of the fence. “You know, my brother over here”—he nods at the older-looking one—“is a mechanic. And maybe, if you ask really, really nicely, he might just fix your car for you.”
My narrowed gaze snaps to the alleged mechanic of the three, and he smirks.
“I don’t know, Blaise.” He flashes blondie a conniving grin. “I’m not sure she’s pretty enough to entice me to do much of anything.”
My hands ball into fists. Screw this. I need to punch something, mess up Goth bands’ pretty boy faces.
Suddenly, Londyn strides forward and snags the back of my shirt, towing me back—I didn’t even realize I was stepping forward. Then she positions herself in front of me protectively.
“Who the hell do you guys think you are?” she spits furiously. “Don’t you ever talk to my sister that way. And stay the hell away from her damn car!”
As much as I appreciate her protectiveness over me, her bodyguard act is probably going to escalate the situation.
I step to the side of her and mumble under my breath, “I’m not sure this is the best way to handle the situation.”
She turns to me, her eyes wild with anger. “We can’t just let them get away with this. They slashed the tires and broke … well, whatever the hell that was in the trunk. And they practically called you ugly, which you so aren’t.” She raises her voice and glowers at them. “And they know it. They’re just being bullies because you shot dickhead over there down.” She waves her hand in Blaise’s direction.
As their sister’s warning flicks through my thoughts, I grab Londyn’s arm and draw her behind me.
Yes, I’m pissed off at the next-door neighbors, and in no way in hell do I plan on letting this go. But I need to keep my sisters out of this. Let the asshats focus on me.
I catch Londyn’s gaze. “I need you to do me a favor. Take Payton and Bailey inside so I can handle this.”
